


Did I Stutter?

by The_Torturer_Writes



Category: Midnight Special (2016)
Genre: F/M, Good old fashioned dominance, Quick Shot, pussy slapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:34:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24407380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Torturer_Writes/pseuds/The_Torturer_Writes
Summary: From this prompt: My apologies, queen. Thank you for your kind response. Paul Sevier + pussy slapping and rough fuck. If you want to forego this ask, I understand, it'll be my punishment. 🎀
Relationships: Paul Sevier/Reader, Paul Sevier/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12
Collections: Torturer Tuesdays





	Did I Stutter?

Paul was naked at the foot of your bed, kneeling and nibbling your thighs. The dimly lit hotel room covered the nose-to-toes blush you knew was there, but he’d thankfully overcome his shyness after your first encounter.

When he arrived tonight, he set his bag just inside the door and peeled off all of his clothing in the hallway so he would only ever be naked for you, just the way you liked. He had also been hard for you, likely from the moment he entered the hotel, just the way you liked.

And then, he’d tossed his glasses on the table, knelt in front of you, buried his face in your pussy, and bathed you with starved kisses and murmured affections of how much he missed you, how you made him feel so good, how between your thighs was his place in the world.

Your chest heaved as he plied your supple skin with attention, breath choppy from the way he’d kissed and licked and sucked at your cunt. His kisses were turning from peppered gentle to open-mouthed and wanting as he prepared to drink from you again. 

You propped on your elbows, looking down the length of your body at him. He was beautiful, lips shining, ebony hair tumbling. This veritable column of a man curved towards you as though you were his oasis in the desert. He gripped your hips and, with his gorgeous long fingers, tugged your puffy labia apart to gaze into your sticky depth.

“Slap my pussy.”

Paul blinked, shocked into stillness. He looked up at you, and his lovely, lusty features swam in meek confusion. He licked his lips, fidgeting, trying to figure out what new game this was.

“You…you want me to do what?”

Your eyes danced, enjoying the internal tug-of-war he was enduring. These moments, where he wanted so very much to obey but felt like he shouldn’t or couldn’t, were like candy. He wanted to submit so badly, but the world taught him that someone who looks like him should always be in control.

“Slap. My. Pussy.”

You quirked a brow at his hesitation but concentrated your unwavering gaze on his face. Paul was an ongoing game of patience, drawing out that pleasing nature bit by bit, and you were happy to wait.

“Are we switching? Because I didn’t kn--”

“Did I give you an order?” He snapped his mouth shut and nodded, his cheeks flushing brighter red. “Did I stutter?”

His perfect cock twitched at your confident tone, offering a new drop to the river he was flowing for you. He licked his lips to keep from stammering the way you didn’t like, but he shook his head in reply.

“Do you feel in any more control than you did a minute ago?”

Another twitch, this time accompanied by a gulping bob of the throat. His fingers tightened into the round of your hips, and he leaned forward just a smidge, drawn to your demand. Pressing his swollen lips into a line, he shook his head again. There would be a time when you required him to answer you aloud, but he was trying so hard to forge a path through this unfamiliar terrain, and you knew how scary that could be.

“Good. Do as you’re told.”

You scooted back into the soft covers, planted your toes on the very edge of the bed, and let your thighs fall apart. His eyes trailed down from your face to linger at your breasts and unblinkingly stare into your open cunt. He salivated; you saw him swallow it, and he fisted the sheet in his left hand.

You thought he would be timid at first, that he would need coaxing into a firmer response, but Paul was so eager to be pleasing that he didn’t dally. His right hand popped a slap onto your sticky mound, and you gasped, delighted at the resultant sting.

He immediately looked to you for approval, hazel eyes glittering in their quest for your praise. Biting your bottom lip, you nodded, a signal for him to continue. He brought his hand back down again, and your head fell back on a load groan. The second hit was stronger than the first, but the third elicited a sharp cry and a buck of your hips.

Straightening to a high kneel, he leaned into the bed and lathed the stinging skin with his tongue before delivering another smack, harder still, and you shouted out a curse. He hummed into your thigh; and when his voice came, it trembled.

“Is that good? You like it?”

Arching upwards at another of his strikes, you nodded, shifting your shoulders to one side so you could see him around the curve of your body. Your pussy flooded, rewarding his efforts with a renewed surge of hot slip at each hit.

Paul was all but fucking the mattress. His wide hips jerked, and he whimpered into your abdomen at the crisp friction. You curled your fingers into his hair, tugging until he looked up. He dragged his chin back and forth across the round of your belly; he stopped breathing and waited for you to tell him what came next.

“Come here. Put that good dick to use.”


End file.
